


Shanshu Sucks

by Morgana



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 17:23:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike discovers that the Shanshu isn't all puppies and daffodils</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shanshu Sucks

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He'd won the prize, claimed the brass ring and emerged from the fray with his shiny new humanity. This was his hour of triumph, his moment in the sun, when he entered paradise amid cheers and warm welcomes. It was the start of his new utopian existence, the dawning of his star in the heavens and best of all, the ultimate smackdown of his prissy, pompous sire. 

There was just one little thing he hadn't planned on. 

Spike coughed, a deep, racking bout that actually raised him up off the couch before he fell back, gasping weakly for air. He snuffled and groaned when the action made his already aching head start to pound even more. Closing his eyes, he prayed for death. 

He got a small hand on his forehead instead. Fever-glazed blue eyes opened to see warm green ones and he tried to smile, but ended up coughing again. Willow frowned. "Spike, you should've said you were feeling worse," she scolded softly. "Hang on. I'll get you some more medicine." 

"No, you don't need to -" Another coughing fit cut him off and by the time it ended, he was lying on the pillows, one hand pressed to his chest. It felt like there was an iron band wrapped around it, one that was slowly suffocating him with every passing moment. He couldn't help thinking that this was a cruel death for a champion who'd saved the world several times over. 

"You're not dying." A tiny plastic cup was pressed into his hand and he realized he must've spoken that last thought aloud. He looked down at the bright red liquid, already dreading the slick feel of it going down and the taste that made him want to take a brillo pad to his tongue. 

The witch sighed and he looked up to see the famous resolve face. "That's not going to do you any good if you don't take it," she informed him. He wondered again why he'd decided to call her instead of Buffy when he first started feeling ill, then remembered that he hadn't wanted the Slayer to see him like this, weak enough that a kitten could've bowled him over with no trouble at all. 

Spike raised the cup and bolted the medicine down, somehow managing not to gag as he tossed it back. Right now the only thing worse than feeling like he'd been run over by a whole fleet of heavy equipment would be adding puking his guts up on top of it. Willow took the cup and handed him a glass of water, then disappeared into the kitchen. 

She came out with a fudgesicle, peeling the paper down like he was five years old instead of an ex-master vampire who'd dealt in death and mayhem for over a century. "Here," she said softly, and Spike took it, giving her a wobbly smile before he began to suck on it. The ice cream soothed his raw throat, making him feel a little less like he'd swallowed ground glass, and he mumbled a thank you around it. 

Willow sank down onto the edge of the couch and stroked his hair back. "You should try to get some more rest," she murmured. "Buffy said if you're not feeling better by Monday morning we're taking you to the doctor." 

Spike finished his treat and let her rearrange the pillows, then tuck him in. She turned out the light and headed into the bedroom, and he sighed. No, this definitely wasn't supposed to happen this way. "Shansu really sucks," he muttered. He drifted off to sleep, his dreams filled with green eyes, red medicine cups and chocolate fudgesicles.


End file.
